A Wrinkle in Time

[cgraven]

( A closed thread for the time being.)

Many have viewed time as the fifth dimension, note scientist such as Albert Einstein investigated it and back away as if terrified by something they had discovered. Authors have played with the idea such as H G Well’s Time Machine and Mark Twain’s more whimsical A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Yet what if time travel was not a matter of choice but an accident, which one had no choice in. The question is how well prepared would you be if you woke up in a different time and place where you where a stranger, knew no one, and where penniless. That is the premises of this tale and the fate of our young heroine.

SOHO was bustling the elite of London’s society was gathered for the opening of a new art gallery. These affairs where always pretentious The well healed mixing with starving artist types, hanger ons and those looking for a free wheeling party where food and liquor wher plentiful. The music was blaring, the wine following as our young Beauty arrives for a night that she will never forget and is caught in a Wrinkle in Time.

 

[Redxrose]

Mckenzie Colener walked through the doors of the art gallery. As one of the artist, she was dressed in her best. Her long red hair was pinned but into a french bun, she was clothed in a trendy black dress. She down played herself like she did her art. As a newly recoginzed artist, Mckenzie should have been excited. But her heart wasn't in it. Not wanting to chat with the art monguls she made her way over to the table of food and drinks. Her first glass of wine was nothing. Her second made her alittle woozy. The third just added to that.

[Sorry, writers block]

 

[cgraven]

Paul Batard lounged in the medieval tavern on the outskirts of London, There was stillness to the evening, and people flitted from shadow to shadow the realm once again in turmoil as fractions and noble houses vivid for the crown of England, vied for power.
This was the perfect time for a man such as he, a man who was a hunter by nature, a man who did not want his past looked into, and who had a ready sword and the ability to use it.

He smiled to himself as he sipped his tankard of ale, he preferred this time this place to the humdrum of his own time and world. This was adventure this was power brought and kept by ones own hand. But he was again lonely, and yearning for a trim little beauty with a flare of spirit some one closer to his own time. He stretched leisurely and slowly rose Time for the hunt he mused to himself and slowly made his way to that little corner by the stair well where if one knew where it was time folded over on itself. A quick glance to make sure he was unnoticed, and then a step.


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The room was nosey, the bright electric lights some how painful to Batard now, the superficial, and self-important abounded here and it left a foul taste in his mouth. His attire seemed to cause no note as the several at the party where dressed in Elizabethan, or Tour garb, and some as Normans, so the tall bald man bedecked in a sir coat and cope , a man of station from a bygone ere was of little or not note.

Batard attention was caught by a stunning young red haired beauty in a trendy black dress, her long red hair was pinned but into a French bun, and a rare beauty she was, and looked bored and slightly inebriated.

“Paul Batard.”

He towered over her his body well toned despite his age, he smiled pleasantly down at the young woman and extended his hand to her.

“You look as bored as I feel, care for a walk?”